What's In The Walls?
by Red Witch
Summary: It's anyone's guess what got out of Krieger's lab this time.


** Something ran off with the disclaimer that I don't own any Archer characters. Just more fun and madness from my tiny little mind. **

**What's In The Walls?**

"Okay everyone," Cyril walked into the bullpen to see the majority of the Figgis Agency there. "I'm calling a meeting. Where's Ms. Archer?"

Krieger looked around. "Not here."

"Thank god for that," Cyril sighed. "Is she at the hospital with Archer?"

"Yes," Lana sighed. "But if she keeps drinking like she has lately she's going to be **in** the hospital with Archer."

"Like she's the only one," Cyril pointed to the assortment of drinks around the gang. "I know it's always Wine O'clock somewhere but don't you people think this is a lot even for **you?** It's not even ten in the morning!"

"These are new breakfast beers," Pam explained.

"Tastes like bacon," Cheryl giggled as she drank some.

"_Breakfast beers?"_ Cyril asked.

"It's the latest fad," Lana sighed. "Honestly Cyril if I were you, I'd start the meeting. This is the soberest these people are going to be all day."

Ray took a sip of beer. "She's not wrong."

"First order of business," Cyril sighed. "Is that we are not **getting any** business. We really need to work on that."

"We'll get right on that," Pam said as she reached for a beer. Then burped after drinking some.

"Second order of business," Cyril sighed. "It seems we have a bit of an image problem. Particularly with the other businesses on our block. They've been complaining about us again."

"What's **their problem**?" Pam asked.

"They feel that we have been a disruptive influence in the neighborhood," Cyril paused.

"This isn't about when that bitch Veronica Deane shot Archer is it?" Pam asked. "And all those news vans parked everywhere for almost a week. Because we all know that wasn't our fault!"

"Well that incident didn't exactly help matters," Cyril sighed.

"The Breastfeeding Riot," Ray said. "They're mad about the Breastfeeding Riot."

"That was one of the incidents yes," Cyril said. "That one was technically our fault."

"And a few random brown outs," Krieger spoke up. "Even though they can't prove we did it."

"It has been surmised that we played a part in that yes," Cyril groaned. "But no, they have no proof. Even though we all know we were behind them."

Lana added. "The time Mallory pulled out a gun when the neighborhood association first visited us was another. All the times Archer caused a disturbance…"

"Yes, we **know** what happened," Cyril said. "We don't need to list **all** the things we've done, Lana List It!"

"Lord knows there's been a lot of them," Ray groaned. "Not to mention our part in shutting down of several other businesses on the street."

Pam spoke up. "Like the all you can eat buffet that opened up and closed within a month. The home security firm that went out of business due to Milton. The Hot Dog truck…"

"Nobody can prove **that one!"** Ray protested. "Can they?"

"No, but they highly suspect it was us," Cyril groaned.

"The Milkshake Café down the street," Pam added.

**"What** milkshake café?" Lana asked.

"There was this place that opened up at the end of the block," Pam said. "Remember where the old Burrito Barn used to be? The one that turned into the sushi place and then that got shut down?"

"Yes," Cyril said.

"It had it's grand opening yesterday," Pam said. "Cheryl, Ray and Krieger went with me after work to try it out."

"The milkshakes were pretty good," Ray said. "Considering the place was a burrito and a sushi place before that."

"That's what I said," Krieger said. "Apparently that was a bit of a turn off to some of the customers."

"Not as much as you insisting on bringing Piggly in," Ray looked at him.

"The sign said helper animals allowed," Krieger said. "He's a helper animal! Besides you, Pam and Cheryl are the ones that started that milkshake fight!"

"You did that too!" Cheryl snapped.

"Yeah you liar!" Pam snapped.

"What fight?" Lana barked.

"It wasn't really a fight," Ray gulped. "More like a spirited debate that got a little heated."

"_What_ debate?" Lana asked. "What were you idiots fighting over **this time?"**

"Uhhh…." Ray paused.

"Weeelllll…" Pam winced.

FLASHBACK!

Ray and Krieger were arguing with Pam and Cheryl at a counter at what looked like to be a hip milkshake place. They each had a gigantic over the top milkshakes in front of them.

FLASHFORWARD!

"Hang on," Cyril interrupted. "What was **Cheryl **doing at a milkshake place? Aren't you lactose intolerant?"

"I had a dairy free smoothie that **looked like** a milkshake," Cheryl explained. "They make them now. Kind of have to have at least one dairy free alternative for people with sensitivities by law."

"At least in California," Ray added.

"The one good thing about living in a nanny state," Cheryl agreed.

"Oh," Cyril said. "I was wondering about that."

"Can we go on with the story Cyril Continuity?" Pam asked sarcastically.

"Continue," Cyril sighed.

FLASHBACK!

"You are **insane!"** Ray snapped.

"I know you are," Cheryl taunted. "But what am I?"

**"Insane!"** Ray snapped.

"I can't believe we are arguing about **this!**" Krieger snapped. "I can't **believe** we are arguing about **this!** It's so freaking obvious!"

"Obvious you're **wrong**!" Pam snapped back. "You're just agreeing with Ray because it's guys against girls!"

"No, I'm arguing with him because it's a little thing called **common sense!"** Krieger snapped.

"Since when do **you** care about **that?"** Cheryl laughed.

"You are ignoring all the evidence!" Krieger snapped.

"Which is circumstantial and you **know it!"** Pam snapped back.

"It is so obvious!" Ray snapped. "It's Smurfs over Trolls! Plain and simple! Trolls are just wannabe Smurfs. But they're **not** Smurfs! They never **will be** Smurfs! They are just not as **good** as Smurfs! End of story! End of discussion!"

"Oh, **big surprise**!" Cheryl snapped. "Gee why would **Ray **be on Team Lame-O Smurf-O? Oh right. A hundred guys and **one girl**! That's like heaven for you!"

"And the only reason you're on Trolls is because they have hair!" Ray snapped.

"Better hair," Cheryl pointed out. "And duh!"

"How can we be **arguing** about this?" Krieger shouted. "It's _Vive_ _Les Schtroumpfs!" _

"How can you be for Smurfs?" Pam snapped. "Smurfs are **Belgian**! You're **German**!"

"You're a freaking Nazi," Cheryl added.

"I don't self-identify as that anymore and you **know** it!" Krieger snapped. "Look it's a European thing."

"Trolls are originally Danish," Pam pointed out.

"Who knows what they are? Those damn things have had more makeovers than a Mary Kay Girl with an unlimited credit card!" Ray snapped. "Smurfs are timeless!"

"We have Justin Timberlake," Pam sniffed.

"Three words, Troll Tramp," Ray counted. "Neil. Patrick. Harris."

"Oh. My. God!" Cheryl threw up her hands. "Oh my god! It's like talking to a wall here!"

"If you would only look at the facts…" Krieger went on.

"Fact check **this!"** Pam threw her milkshake at Krieger and Ray.

They in turn, threw their milkshakes at Pam and Cheryl. Who in turn grabbed some other milkshakes from other people and threw it at Krieger and Ray. Who of course also grabbed other milkshakes from other people and threw it at them.

Pretty soon there was a huge milkshake war going on in the café. With the gang screaming the words Smurfs and Trolls at each other.

"SQUEEEEE!" Piggly ran around licking milkshakes off of everywhere and everything.

FLASHFORWARD!

"Admittedly things got a tad out of hand," Ray paused.

"Just a little," Pam nodded. "Especially when Cheryl found a sprinkle gun."

"A **what?**" Lana blinked.

"A sprinkle gun," Pam explained. "You know those sprinkles they put on ice cream? Sometimes called jimmies? Well the guys who opened up this place had invented this type of gun that shot out sprinkles to put on their giant milkshakes. And Cheryl found it."

FLASHBACK!

"HA! HA! HA ! HAAAAA!" Cheryl squealed with glee as she shot sprinkles everywhere and on everything with a small mini-bazooka the size of a water gun.

"AAAHHH!" A couple of customers were being chased by Piggly.

FLASHFORWARD!

"I love the smell of sprinkles in the morning," Cheryl giggled.

"I'm amazed they didn't call the cops on you," Lana was stunned.

"They did," Ray admitted. "Here's where the story gets weird."

"Especially after we told them what the fight was about in the first place," Pam added.

FLASHBACK!

"What the hell is the matter with you?" A black female police officer shouted at her partner. "It's Smurfs! It's so obviously Smurfs!"

"That is a very narrow world view!" A male white officer with a mustache and sunglasses shouted. "I am a Troll Man!"

"Obviously," The female officer shouted. "I've seen your dates!"

"Oh yeah! Let's go **there!"** The male officer snapped. "Very professional Nash!"

"Well at least it's not as dumb as favoring Trolls, Wolinksi!" Nash shouted.

"Trolls are good luck creatures!" Wolinski snapped. "My first wife gave me a troll on our first anniversary!"

"The one who cheated on you?" Nash snapped. "Huh! That disproves **that theory!"**

"You're just being ignorant!" Wolinski shouted. "IGNORANT!"

"And you're being a moron!" Nash snapped. "Smurfs rule, Trolls drool!"

"Nuh uh!" Wolinski snapped.

"Yuh, huh!" Nash snapped.

"Nuh, uh!"

"Yuh, huh!"

"Nuh, uh!"

"Yuh, huh!"

"All right," Another male officer walked up to them. "What's going on here?"

"It's a classic Smurfs verses Trolls dispute, Marks," Nash explained.

"Aren't they **both** kind of stupid?" Marks asked.

"WHAT?" Nash shouted.

"OH, THAT IS IT!" Wolinski shouted as he pulled out his gun. "You take that **back!"**

"You take it back!" Nash snapped as she pulled out her gun.

"Make my day!" Wolinski shouted as waved his gun around.

"Both of you make my day and **shut up!"** Marks pulled out his gun. "Both Smurfs and Trolls are equally lame and you both know it. Now if we were talking Cabbage Patch Dolls, I could see it…"

That was when both Nash and Wolinski opened fire. Marks ducked and opened fire as well.

FLASHFORWARD!

"And that's when things really got out of hand," Ray admitted.

"Oh my God!" Lana gasped.

"Yeah as bad as we were," Pam nodded. "We didn't start a shootout."

"Then the cops realized what they were doing," Ray went on. "Long story short…"

"Too late," Cyril grumbled.

"The cops agreed to let us slide on this one as long as we didn't tell on them to their sergeant," Ray went on. "Which pissed off the owners and they called us all some very unflattering mean names."

"Then banned us all for life," Pam said. "Cops included."

"Then I got mad," Cheryl said. "So I called my company and had my lawyers buy up the property from the previous landlord. Then evicted those bastards within thirty minutes! You should have seen those owners cry as I had my security drag them away."

"Technically we didn't **drag** them away," Pam said. "I carried one guy because he passed out. The other guy left very peacefully."

"That explains this letter I got this morning from the Neighborhood Business Association," Cyril pulled out a piece of paper. "Particularly this sentence about never serving any of us any milkshakes ever again since we use them as weapons. I was wondering why they put that in. Now I know."

"And knowing is a damn good reason to learn how to make your own milkshakes," Pam interrupted.

"What exactly does that letter say?" Lana asked.

Cyril sighed. "I'm just going to give you the recap. They couldn't help but notice that the number of disasters and destruction has increased over sixty percent ever since our business moved into the neighborhood. And if we don't clean up our act, they will make it **their business** to move us **out **of the neighborhood!"

"Oh please," Cheryl scoffed. "What the hell are those crybabies going to do about it?"

"Well for starters they've already gotten the word out to **their clients** about us," Cyril said. "And it's not a good one."

"That's probably one reason why business is so slow," Ray remarked.

"Look what we need to do is…" Cyril began. Then he heard a noise. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Lana asked.

"I heard something," Cyril blinked. A strange noise repeated. "There it is again!"

"I heard it too!" Pam said. "There it goes again!"

"Oh, so it's not just me?" Cheryl asked. "I thought I was having an auditory hallucination this morning when I heard it in the bathroom."

"Hang on," Lana raised her hand. The sound was heard again. "Okay that's definitely **something**…"

"Where's it coming from?" Ray asked. "And what is it?"

The sound was heard again. "It kind of sounds like feet…" Cheryl blinked.

"Feet?" Ray blinked.

The sound was heard yet again. "She's right," Lana said.

"Duh!" Cheryl said. "Sorry! Habit! I mean, **really**?"

"There's something in the walls," Krieger realized. He put his head against a wall and tapped on it. The sound was heard. "Yup. Definitely something in the walls."

"Oh good," Ray groaned. "It's time for one of my favorite games. What's in the Walls?"

"I like that game too!" Cheryl giggled.

"I don't!" Lana snapped.

"God damn it Krieger!" Cyril snapped. "That better not be one of your stupid Stitch Kriegers!"

"It's not any of the Stitch Kriegers," Krieger snapped. "Those guys moved out months ago!"

"Well then **what is it** Krieger?" Lana snapped. "What insane unholy thing do you have of yours running around our walls?"

"What makes you think it's **mine?"** Krieger asked. "I know, besides the obvious. But I'm not the only one here who has animals that run amok! Like a certain ocelot!"

"You think **Babou** is in the walls?" Ray asked.

"I haven't seen Babou in a while," Krieger said. "Have **you?** For all we know Babou snuck in there through a hole to get away from Cheryl!"

"It's not Babou!" Pam snapped.

"How do you know?" Krieger challenged.

"Because for one thing, Babou is back at our place," Pam said. "I remember the damn thing shredding the sofa before we left."

"I never liked that sofa," Cheryl said. "One of my grandmothers picked it out. Can't remember which one…"

"And two…" Pam paused as the running sound was heard again. "It sounds too small to be Babou."

"Or a robot monster," Ray added.

"Technically Gobo was **not **a monster," Krieger corrected. "He was just mistaken for one."

"What if it's a troll?" Cheryl gasped.

"Or a Smurf?" Krieger guessed.

"Let's not start **that** again!" Ray snapped.

"Shhh!" Lana told them. "Listen!"

The sounds of pitter patter were heard. The gang looked up, then across, then up again, and across again. Their faces and eyes following the sound. "It's definitely smaller than Babou…" Pam remarked. "Like a laser snake…?"

"Laser snakes don't have feet," Ray said. "If it was a snake, we wouldn't hear a thing!"

"Oh my God…" Cyril's face went pale. "What if it's one of Krieger's exploding mice?"

"Krieger…" Ray glared at Krieger.

"It's not one of my exploding mice," Krieger said. "I used them all. I think…"

"You **think?**" Ray shouted, his voice getting higher.

"They multiply very rapidly," Krieger shrugged. "One of them could have had babies without me knowing."

"Oh God…" Cyril moaned. "We're all gonna die!"

"Eventually yes," Lana told him. "Krieger what else is in your lab that could be running around in the walls? Think!"

"We know it's not your strong suit," Pam said. "But try."

"Look who's talking," Cheryl scoffed. "Pamela Always Getting a Hickey!"

"Look who's talking **yourself!**" Pam snapped. "Gluia Ward How The Hell Are You Not Dead Yet?"

"Shut up!" Cyril snapped. "Krieger?"

"Ummm…" Krieger thought. "Well…It could be a robot hand. Maybe it somehow booted up and it's going around. It has happened before. Just not in a wall."

"A robot hand?" Ray asked.

"Yeah you know?" Krieger made a motion with his hand. "Like Thing from the Adams Family. It could use the fingers as legs to skitter around."

The noise was heard again. "That doesn't sound like skittering," Pam said.

"Mice skitter," Ray realized. "Oh God…"

"It's not the mice!" Krieger snapped.

The sound was made again. "It's more like a soft pitter-patter than a skitter," Pam said.

"What's the difference?" Krieger asked. "I thought they were the same?"

"Skittering is lighter," Pam explained. "Pitter-pattering is heavier. Not much heavier but heavier."

"Sounds pretty light to me," Lana said.

"It's not skittering," Pam said. "It's pitter-patter!"

"Do Smurfs pitter-patter or skitter?" Cheryl asked.

"You really want to start **that **again?" Ray snapped.

"YES!" Cheryl shouted.

"SHUT UP!" Lana snapped. "Krieger if it is a robot hand, is it possible for you to track it somehow?"

Krieger thought a moment. "Yup! Yup! Yup!"

The noise happened again. "Do you want me to do it now?" Krieger asked.

"YES!" Everyone else shouted.

"Right," Krieger went to get a tablet on a table. He worked on it. "Okay, I can access the robotics profile here. And then do a routine sub recon…Push this button…Beep this boop and…. Voila!"

The skittering sound was heard again. "It's still moving," Cyril said.

"Here's the thing," Krieger said. "Good news. It's **not** a robot hand. They're all still in the lab!"

The gang groaned with disbelief. "Oh, for crying out loud…" Ray groaned.

"Are you **kidding** me?" Pam said at the same time.

"I don't believe this!" Cyril said at the same time.

"Krieger!" Lana growled at the same time.

"We're being invaded by Smurfs!" Cheryl shouted.

"Or Trolls," Pam added.

"SHUT UP!" Ray snapped. "Krieger if it's not a robot hand then what is it?"

"I don't know," Krieger shrugged.

That was when Ray started to repeatedly slap Krieger with his non-robotic hand. "Ow! Ow! OW! OW! OW!" Krieger protested. "OW!"

"SHHH!" Lana ordered. Everyone froze. They heard the noise getting fainter.

"Okay **that's** a skitter," Pam spoke up.

"Please let it not be an exploding mouse," Cyril moaned.

"I told you it wasn't!" Krieger snapped.

"Besides if it was a mouse," Cheryl realized. "We wouldn't be able to hear it."

"Uh…Not necessarily," Krieger said. "My last batch of exploding mice had robot feet. So technically…"

"Robot feet on _exploding mice?"_ Lana did a double take.

"I'm always trying to take my bionics to new and exciting levels," Krieger said.

"If that is an exploding mouse we're going to **get leveled**!" Cyril moaned.

"It's not one of them!" Krieger snapped.

"Well then **what is it**?" Lana snapped.

"I **don't know**!" Krieger snapped. "And there's no proof that this is my fault either! For all we know it could be a squirrel that got in!"

"A _squirrel?_" Cheryl asked.

"Yes, a squirrel," Krieger said. "It could have gotten in through the ventilating system or something! It happens! Did you know that squirrels are behind most power outages in the world? It's possible it's a squirrel! Or a wild rat! Or even a raccoon!"

"In LA?" Lana asked.

"Raccoons live everywhere in America, Lana!" Krieger snapped. "It's a fact!"

"He's right," Pam said. "It could be a raccoon."

"No, it doesn't sound big enough to be a raccoon," Ray shook his head.

"It's a **small **raccoon!" Pam snapped.

"More likely a rat," Ray said. "That is the more plausible theory."

"I can't believe out of all the options we have," Cyril groaned. "A rat is the **least **destructive!"

"That's what it probably is," Krieger said. "A wild animal that I had **nothing to do with** got into our walls. It happens all the time."

"Okay Krieger the Exterminator," Lana groaned. "Then how do we get it out?"

"I could whip up some nerve gas…" Krieger began.

"DO NOT MAKE ANY NERVE GAS!" Lana snapped. "Not **again!" **

"Listen!" Ray said. "I think I can hear it!"

He put his ear against the wall to listen in. One by one the other members of the Figgis Agency did so. "It stopped…" Pam said.

Lana motioned for her to be silent. She lightly tapped on the wall. A scurrying noise was heard. "Oh yeah that's a scurry," Cheryl nodded.

"Definitely a scurry," Cyril nodded.

"Shh!" Ray admonished. He lightly tapped on the wall. A slight noise was heard. "It's definitely there…"

"What do we do?" Cyril asked. "How do we get it out of the wall?"

"There isn't any way we can get it out of the wall," Lana grumbled.

"Technically…" Ray paused and made a fist with his bionic hand.

"Oh no…" Lana realized what Ray was about to do. "Ray! No! No!"

SMASH!

"GOD DAMN IT RAY!" Cyril snapped as Ray's bionic hand smashed through the wall.

"Dukes!" Ray snapped as he pulled the hand back. "It got away!"

"Great! Just what we need!" Lana snapped. "Another hole in the wall! To go with the hole in your head!"

"Well I didn't see **you** offering any solutions!" Ray snapped.

"YEAH!" Cheryl backed Ray up.

"Way to pick on Ray, Lana Blame!" Pam snapped.

"But there's a hole in the wall now!" Lana snapped.

"Like that's the first one we've ever had," Cheryl scoffed.

Ray snapped. "Hey you wanted the rat or whatever it is out of the wall! I tried to **get it** out of the wall!"

"We're going to get it if Mallory sees this!" Lana snapped.

"Just put another damn picture over it like we did the other ones!" Pam snapped. "It's no big deal!"

"It **is** a big deal!" Cyril snapped. "We're running out of walls and can only put up so much artwork!"

"That reminds me," Lana noticed something. "Where did **that picture** come from?"

"Which one?" Ray asked.

"The one with the sailboat," Lana said. "Why do we have some artwork with a **sailboat?"**

"Because that was all I could find that I liked at the arts and crafts store," Krieger said.

"Okay next question…" Lana said. "Why…?"

"We had a little incident the other day while you were visiting Archer," Cyril admitted.

"What **kind** of incident?" Lana asked.

"Well…" Pam began.

FLASHBACK!

"Batta, batta, swing batta…" Pam chanted. She was holding a whiffle bat in the bullpen. Cheryl was behind her wearing a catcher's mitt.

"Here comes the heat," Ray said as he held a whiffle ball and pitched it.

"Oh! Swing and a miss!" Cheryl cheered as she caught the ball. Pam and swung and missed the ball.

"God damn it!" Pam snapped. "No fair using your bionic hand Ray!"

"I'm not using my bionic hand, Pam!" Ray taunted as Cheryl threw the ball back at him. "One more out!"

"I can count, Man Whore Island Bay Ray!" Pam snapped. "I'm gonna hit this outta the park!"

"Technically it's the bullpen," Krieger called out. He was behind Ray.

"Just throw the damn ball!" Pam snapped. "They didn't call me Powerhouse Pammy back on our old softball team for nothing!"

"Here it comes sweet and low!" Ray cheered as he threw the ball.

"STEEEERRRRIIKKKEE THREEE!" Cheryl cheered as Pam swung and missed. Cheryl caught the ball.

"GOD DAMN IT!" Pam threw down the bat and then punched a hole in the wall in frustration. "Oops…"

FLASHFORWARD!

"That one was my bad," Pam admitted. "You know if you think about it, these walls really aren't that well-made."

"We really need to be more careful," Cyril grumbled. "We are running out of walls."

"Speaking of things running and **walls**!" Lana pointed. "I don't hear anything now!"

"Well it has to be in here somewhere," Cyril said.

"Everyone spread out and listen," Lana said.

"And then what?" Ray asked.

"Just listen around," Lana sighed.

"That is a valid question," Cyril admitted.

"Here's the answer," Lana glared at him. "Shut up!"

"You've become a real bossy britches, haven't you?" Cyril challenged. He ran away when Lana glared at him.

Ten minutes later the gang was still walking around the agency listening around. "Did anyone find anything?" Lana asked.

"I haven't heard anything for a while," Ray said. "But I did find another hole behind another picture I haven't seen before."

"Where was it?" Cheryl asked. "In the copy room?"

"No, it was in Archer's office," Ray said. "Wait there's another one in the **copy room?"**

"Yeah that was me," Cheryl said. "I had this weird idea there might be treasure or something in the walls but I got bored after the first hole. But I didn't do the one in Archer's office."

"Yeah that was me," Lana admitted. "It was shortly after Archer went into the coma and I was really pissed off so I hit the wall. I covered it up with that stupid picture of an old Glengoolie Blue promo that Archer had."

"This hole was behind a picture of a black Ferrari with some women on it," Ray said.

"Yeah that was me," Cyril admitted. "I sort of accidentally made that one. Don't want to go into details…"

"You were secretly vandalizing Archer's office once he was in the coma, weren't you?" Lana asked.

"Oh, like **you **didn't do that!" Cyril snapped.

"I think we really do need to work on the walls in this office," Krieger remarked.

"Did anybody find anything other than holes?" Lana snapped.

"Phrasing!" Cheryl cheered.

"I haven't heard a thing," Pam said. "I think it's gone."

"I think Ray scared it away," Cyril said. "Honestly I can't blame it."

"It probably went underground in the sewer," Krieger shrugged. "To who knows where?"

"Hey as long as it's not **here,"** Pam said. "Then we don't have a problem!"

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

"Problem," Ray winced as the explosion rattled the building.

"That wasn't us!" Lana realized. "We didn't explode! It must have…OH MY GOD!"

"What?" Ray looked at where Lana looked. "Sweet Jesus!"

They all looked out the window. "Is that the bank across the street?" Pam gasped.

"And it's on fire! YAAAYYY!" Cheryl cheered.

"That could be just a coincidence," Krieger gulped.

"I highly doubt it," Cyril moaned.

Twenty minutes later…

"Good thing that bank was closed this morning," Pam remarked as the Figgis Agency watched the chaos from the window. "Apparently it was undergoing renovations."

"After our last fiasco which damaged it," Lana groaned. "What was it again?"

"Who remembers?" Cheryl waved. "Oooh! Look at all those fire engines!"

"And hunky firemen!" Pam grinned.

"Oh look," Lana turned on the TV. "It's on the news."

"This is Darlene Love on the scene where the Associated International Bank blew up unexpectedly and is currently on fire," The familiar African-American reporter was in front of the wreckage. "Fortunately, the bank was undergoing renovations so there were not as many people injured. Only a couple of construction workers who happened to be outside. Here they are! Sirs! Sirs! Can I ask you what happened?"

Two banged up construction workers were there. "Well…We were all taking a break because it was almost eleven or noon or something. That's probably what saved our lives," The first one said. "I was just out the door to get a brewski when…Kaboom!"

"I could have sworn I heard some squeaking," The second construction worker blinked. "Right after I heard some scurrying. Or was it pitter-patter?"

Everyone then looked at Krieger. "Oh," Krieger blinked. "I guess I did have one exploding mouse left."

"Cyril wins the game!" Cheryl said cheerfully.

"I wish I **didn't,"** Cyril moaned.

"Relax! The explosion will probably get blamed on a gas leak," Krieger said. "Nobody can blame us for this."

"Oh yes **they will**!" Cyril snapped. "The president of that bank is the head of the Neighborhood Business Association! They are **definitely** going to connect the dots! Proof or not we're going to get the blame! And a lot more letters…"

"On the bright side Cyril," Ray said. "If this keeps up, there may not be any businesses on this street **left **to complain!"

To this Cyril responded by pounding his head repeatedly against the wall. Which started to crack.


End file.
